Ceasefire
by SilverStarsAndMoons
Summary: Emma tries to help troubled Quinn, but gets no response until she finds her in a coffee shop one snowy Saturday.


"This is a waste of time."

Emma leans back in her chair, and regards the sullen girl in front of her with an indulgent smile. If she had a nickel for every time some student said that to her in this office . . .

"Well, Quinn, we can explore that later. You know why you're here, I'm sure?"

"No." Quinn glares at Emma. "I'm tired of this fake concern. I'm fine, okay? Just leave me alone."

Emma continues to stare at Quinn, and then sighs. Yes, she's fine – except she isn't. Quinn was found behind the school yesterday smoking marijuana, and wearing nothing but a threadbare winter coat. Her legs were almost blue with cold under her skirt, and her feet were soaked in the snowy-rainy mess on the ground.

"Quinn, everyone's concerned. It's not like you to be making these types of bad choices."

Quinn stands. "Listen, if this is another lecture – "

"It's not. It's not another lecture." Emma sighs. "Your grades have gone down to barely passing. You're doing drugs, Quinn, you're not happy. It's less a lecture, more a warning. Please stop this before you ruin your future altogether – a future that you have struggled to preserve."

In response, Quinn walks out.

Emma begins to sanitize her hands, slowly, and sighs again.

/~/

Quinn is referred to Emma for two more guidance appointments before Christmas, but she fails to show up to either of them. Emma doesn't chase her – it's clear she won't get through to Quinn through traditional methods. They'll try again in the new year. Emma shelves the issue for now.

Christmas shopping is going well this year. Emma, in the past, has bought most gifts online, but this year, she's felt brave enough to actually go to the mall and see what she can find. Of course, she's careful not to touch many things, and she stays far away from the food court and mall bathrooms, but she's enjoying herself, and she even feels brave enough to stop at the downtown Starbucks on her way home from a successful snowy Saturday shopping excursion.

Outside, she sees the normal bustle of harried shoppers coming in for a quick latte before rushing off to their next task, but she doesn't expect to see Quinn Fabray, looking cold and upset, ducking inside the coffee shop.

Quinn fumbles in her purse, but ends up coming up with nothing. Looking disappointed, she stands in a corner, away from the crowds, before she spots Emma and her face changes. Now she just looks annoyed and slightly frightened.

Emma debates going over to talk to Quinn. After all, it is the Christmas holidays, she's technically not teaching now, and she isn't in the mood for a public brawl with Quinn, but there's something in the girl's eyes that makes Emma get up and go over to Quinn.

"Hi, Quinn."

"Hi." Quinn's face doesn't change. "What are you doing here? I thought you never went out or whatever."

Emma just looks puzzled. "That doesn't really make much sense." There's an awkward pause; then Emma tries to smile. "Do you want anything?"

"I don't want anything from you." The trademark snarky, emphatic reply comes quickly, but Quinn's expression doesn't match her words, and Emma ends up putting a hand on Quinn's arm.

"Come and sit down. I'll buy you whatever you like. Coffee, hot chocolate, tea?"

Quinn doesn't answer right away – she waits until she's sitting down first, and then it's like the words are being tugged from her. She reluctantly answers.

"I don't really need anything. But if you don't mind, a hot chocolate would be nice."

"Sure," says Emma, smiling. "Whipped cream?"

Now Quinn's face has softened. "Yes, please. Thank you."

When the two are sipping their drinks, Quinn starts to look more and more uncomfortable until Emma breaks their silence.

"Were you Christmas shopping this afternoon, Quinn?"

Quinn shakes her head. "No. I was visiting Ms. Corcoran."

Emma briefly remembers Will telling her that Quinn had announced Shelby's adoption of Beth, and nods. "She has your daughter, right?"

"Well, she's not really my daughter anymore." Quinn drops the subject. "Anyway, thanks for the hot chocolate." She stands up, and takes the cup with her. "I should be going."

Emma stands, too. "I'll drive you home – I'm going your way, and the weather's terrible."

Quinn doesn't object. She shrugs. "Okay."

Emma's car is covered in fresh snow, and she has to take a few minutes to brush it off thoroughly. Like she does whenever she's cleaning, she enters her "zone" – a nice, happy, humming sort of mood where she's focused entirely on the task at hand. Finally brushing herself off, she gets back into the car to find Quinn in tears.

"Quinn?"

"Just . . . drive, okay? Or, never mind. I'll just get out." She starts to leave, but Emma stops her with a hand on her arm.

"Quinn, what is going on?"

"My mom has decided to go to Cuba for Christmas with her latest boyfriend. My father and sister have told me I'm not welcome in their home. I'm just lonely, I guess." She sniffles. "I went to see Beth and Shelby, and was told not to come back due to my incident with smoking weed a few weeks ago until I can "show responsibility". I'm just lonely, I guess."

Emma doesn't know what to say – words that normally come naturally to her are meaningless in Quinn's grief.

"Look, Quinn. Why don't you come home with me? We can eat some dinner together, watch a movie." It's inappropriate, but Emma feels the need to make an offer.

At that, Quinn bursts into fresh tears, and Emma awkwardly stares at her for a moment before pulling Quinn close to her for a hug.

The hug is even more awkward than the conversation before it was. All Emma can think of is tears and snot on her coat, as mean as that is. But it seems to help Quinn – she stops crying and simply rests against Emma's shoulder for a moment. Emma feels horrible for Quinn. What she needs is someone to mother her for a while.

"The offer still stands," Emma reminds her, bringing a tissue up from the glove compartment and wiping Quinn's cheeks gently.

A hint of Quinn's old attitude flashes across her face, but then she softens. "That would be nice," she says, rather formally, but Emma knows it's because she doesn't know what else to say. "Thanks."

Emma smiles. "Let's go."


End file.
